Page 55 of Mine to Hold
Tomorrow morning, I would be heading to Spain. Gearing up to leave France, I was taking a last walk through the property I’d just finished renovating with my business partner. He turned to grin at me as we stood in the center of the cavernous lobby, having completed our tour of the rest of the hotel.
“You did a magnificent job here,” he said excitedly, his hands flying around as he spoke. “We can’t wait to see what you’re going to do in Marbella. Perhaps when you’re done there, you could come back and we can discuss the renovation of the remaining hotels that are part of this chain.”
I’d been trying to muster up some enthusiasm for my next project, but I just couldn’t seem to. For months now, I’d been looking forward to spending time on the Spanish coast. When I’d gone out to take a look at the property in Marbella before the wedding, I hadn’t been able to wait to take on the project, but now, I didn’t seem to be able to get excited for anything anymore, and it was all because of Emma.
“I’m glad you’re satisfied with the final product,” I said. “We can certainly discuss the remaining properties. It would make sense to redo them in the same way, but I may have to send one of my partners out here to work on it with you. I’ll brief him before, of course, but the rest of my year is already fully booked up.”
“You will oversee the projects though, yes?”
I nodded. “Definitely. I just won’t be able to get back here myself until at least February.”
“We will be happy to work with anyone from your company. The client is very impressed with what we’ve all done, and he’s asked us to keep you onboard.”
“That’s great news,” I said, but even though it really was fucking fantastic that we’d be getting in more European work, I still didn’t feel anything. No excitement. Not even a tiny flash of satisfaction over a job well done. Just nothing.
After I promised to put him in touch with the guy I had in mind to bring over here, we said our goodbyes and I left, surprised at the amount of dread in the pit of my stomach over the thought of packing to leave once again.
As I did, my thoughts turned back to Emma. Then again, she was the only thing I seemed to be able to think about these days.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t put her out of my mind. I was worried that I’d made a mistake by letting her go, but at the same time, I didn’t want another failed relationship like I’d had with Anna. I needed and wanted someone who fit into my life and wanted to build one with me.
The last thing I wanted was to spend the next few years in yet another relationship that wouldn’t work out in the end. If I ever got into another relationship, it would have to be with someone I could not only see myself marrying, but with someone who could see herself marrying me. Getting left at the altar after a relationship that had been that long had been bad enough. I wasn’t interested in wasting more time or in being walked out on again.
I sighed as I sat down on the bed in my hotel room, taking in my half-packed suitcase and wondering why I’d ever thought living like this was so great. Packing so often wasn’t fun, and neither was the prospect of having to discover new favorite places for coffee, dinner, and everything else.
I’d just done all that. Francois, the barista at the place around the corner, now knew my name and how I took my coffee. Angeline at the restaurant up the street kept my table for me every night and the grocery store clerk had finally smiled at me just the other day when I’d gone to pick up some basics for the small kitchenette I had in this room.
Just as I’d started feeling settled in Paris, I was leaving again.Honestly, what’s so great about that?
My phone ringing snapped me out of my reverie. Parker’s name appeared on my screen. I didn’t really feel like talking, but it would be better than just sitting around, moping. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Isabella is pregnant,” he roared at the other end of the line before he’d said hello. “How awesome is that? I’m finally going to be a father.”
“Wow. Congratulations. That’s huge, brother. How is she feeling?”
He chuckled. “Like she wants to murder me most days, but when she’s not nauseated, she’s pretty fucking happy.”
“I’d want to murder you too if you put something inside me that made me feel sick all the time,” I joked, but the news was hitting me slowly, a little like walking face first into the reverberation of a bomb blast. “I’m happy for you guys, though. And hey, if she murders you, I’ll tell him or her all about their daddy. You don’t have to worry about being forgotten.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather be around to see him or her grow up.” He laughed. “We’re so excited. I can’t even tell you how surprised we were that it happened so fast, but it’s got to be meant to be, you know?”
“For sure,” I agreed, pausing for a moment before quieting my voice in case his wife was around during the conversation. “How’s she taking it? Still scared?”
He spoke softer as well but not much, so obviously, it was okay to talk about it whether she was there or not. “She’s terrified, but so am I. I’ve looked it up, and apparently, most people are. There’s something about knowing that a defenseless little human is going to be dependent on you that suddenly makes staying alive seem that much more important. That being said, she’s been a lot more at peace since we spoke to you all about it. You should see her. She’s really glowing. She’s so happy, man. We’ll just have to take all the fears as they come.”
As a former foster child, Isabella had been dead set against having kids of her own when they might end up in the system. In the end, it had turned out that she wanted children but had written it off because of her fears. Parker had managed to show her that they had a heck of a support system, though. Once he’d done that, she’d relaxed and eventually had come to realize that there were a ton of people who would take in her kids if anything happened to her and Parker.
I was happy for them. I genuinely was, but I was also a little bit jealous. Anna and I had already been engaged when he’d met Isabella, and now they were married and expecting their first child, and here I was, alone in Europe, heartbroken and miserable.
“How have you been?” he asked like he’d heard my last thought. “I haven’t spoken to you for a long time. It’s like you dropped off the map for a while.”
“I sort of did,” I said, then broke down and told him about everything that had happened with Emma. How she’d come to Paris with me. How great it had been and how I’d fallen head over heels for the girl. How she’d discovered that my life wasn’t for her and had left.
By the time I was done, I felt lighter for having gotten it all off my chest but also strangely hollow. Like letting the words out had left a void deep within me and I didn’t know what to do with all that empty space.
“Emma tried your lifestyle and it wasn’t for her,” he stated like it wasn’t such a big deal. “Have you actually tried hers, though? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”
“What do you mean? I’m from Rockdale. I lived there until the end of high school and I was there again before and after the wedding.”
